I belong to a few dating sites across the web which has it’s pros and cons. The best thing about being a woman on there is the freedom to sift through mass emails and weed through to the ones you may actually want to talk to.

Occasionally, I get some really interesting letters from men interested in me. Which, I’m going to start posting.

Here’s one from today:

Title: Let’s get Lost.

Body: You. are like a clever little monkey who, before escaping the animal experimentation lab, opens each and every locked cage for each and every creature not wise enough to do it for themselves (even the ones that you know may be a danger to you). You do this not because you are kind (although I’m sure you are) but because you just. want. to see. what happens.

If only I could be the mad scientist that observes you doing this. If by some miracle I could, I would do…nothing. but watch. and smile. and see what happens.

Thanks for such a creative, entertaining profile. It made my day to read it and know that there are still crazy monkeys like you out there.

If you’re having a hard time keeping track of all the photos you send/ or are sent via email, you must try out 2PAD. This website automatically retrieves all the photos and videos you have in your email boxes. Best part is that it tags and organizes them into one very visually stimulating interface. It takes seconds to sign up for this and it was able to retreive all of my buried photos in a couple of hours.

So far, I’m a fan!

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Instinctively, I thought.. well this could be fun to see just how many nudes have been in my inboxes. I have a few email accounts, but decided to start with my most commonly used one- my gmail.

I waited eagerly for the laughing and reminiscing. You can see who sent you what, what you sent to whom.

It arrived and I smiled. Those nudes were for him. Those nudes were from that couple. An ass. Some tits. Some ideas for shoots for Zivity perhaps.

And then I saw these pictures from about a year ago. The hot but psycho rockabilly military guy. He drove a classic car.. a Chevelle I believe but it was completely overrulled by the pure amount of fucking PSYCHO that this dude was.

Paranoia goes with smoking pot.. and is pretty laughable most of the time. But this guy freaked over nothing… like severely nothing.

One minute he was worshipping the ground I walked on.. couldn’t wait to be out and how nothing else was going to matter but the two of us when he did. Maybe war does something to you. Maybe it was something else. But seeing those images of this all American rockabilly dream boy gone mad gave me the shivers. It was something I honestly really could have done without.

I shut the window and wanted to pretend it didn’t happen.

Then this morning I was checking my Facebook.. and sure enough there he was standing by that black Chevelle.. a new friend request. He’s out of the military, local, and wanting to talk again. And although the idea of him being around to fix up the beast sounds rather tempting…

I drank 1 glass of wine yesterday. Things were fine. I didn’t see u- I know u said I wouldn’t, but still thought maybe I’d see your face in the crowd. You’re right- you do blend in well. Missed you though butthead. Sorry once again and hope your trip goes well tonight.

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I know I torture myself but at least I admit it… and.. well.. there’s more to the story, but.. it’s my story.